


Talon

by CrimeAlley1048



Category: Batfamily - Fandom, Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics), Grayson (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 05:32:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5117357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimeAlley1048/pseuds/CrimeAlley1048
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Court of Owls has a foothold in Haly's Circus and the ability to reanimate the dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Talon

“I don’t understand.” He did, really— he understood exactly what Tim was trying to say, but not _why_ he was saying it because it couldn’t be true. It really couldn’t. Impossible.  
“I’m just telling you what I saw.” Tim had been staring at his hands, but now he looked Dick in the eye. “It was your mom. I’m sure.”  
Well Tim was wrong. It happened sometimes— it happened to all of them, and it had to be happening now. Dick’s mom was dead. She’d been dead for a decade. She wasn’t running around the city, no matter what Tim though he saw, especially not as one of those—  
“Dick. Are you okay?”  
“My mom?”  
“Yes.”  
“A _Talon_.”  
“I’m sorry, but yes.”  
Dick sank into the chair by the monitor, spinning to face Tim and the empty cave. “Do you have footage? Pictures? DNA?”  
“Not yet, but—”  
“So no evidence.”  
“I know what I saw, okay?”  
“Yeah, Tim, so do I. And I saw her— them— Both of them! I saw them die.”  
“I know. I did too.”  
“They’re dead.” Dick was sure of that. Hell, that might be the only thing he was sure of at this point, since his entire life had been falling to pieces lately. “They’re dead,” he repeated. He saw the bodies.  
He could see them now, if he wanted to— that image was only ever a blink away. Dick rubbed his hands down his face, trying to dislodge it: flashing lights and blood and the broken end of a rope hanging in front of him. That wasn’t the worst part— the worst part was remembering the sound that bodies made when they smashed into the floor, clearly audible over the screams of a thousand onlookers. You didn’t forget that sound.  
“I thought it was ridiculous too,” Tim told him. “But this is third time I’ve seen her, and we know that Haly’s is connected to the Court. It’s her, Dick. She’s following you.”  
Dick shot him a look.  
“I was… also following you. I have some questions about Spyral, okay? It’s not important right now.” Tim looked back down at his hands. “So no, I don’t have evidence. I just thought you would want to know.”  
Right. Dick bit down on his lip, staring across the room at Bruce’s lab— that was the first place he’d seen a Talon. One of his ancestors, Bruce said, from Haly’s. It was almost funny the way things worked out— even the parts of his life that he considered normal wrapped around into something else. The Court of Owls in Haly’s Circus? Sure. Destined to be a supernatural assassin? Made sense. Raya, Raymond, William Cobb? Hey, why not?  
But none of that had touched his parents— their deaths had been the foundation of his life for years, and he hadn’t thought there was anything that could shake it loose. But if his mother was alive… That would change everything. Again.  
Sometimes Dick heard people describe the feeling of having their lives ripped out from underneath them— like falling, they said. As appropriate as that would have been, it wasn’t how he felt. He felt something completely different, looking at Bruce’s lab, imagining his mother coated in a layer of ice (wrong that was _wrong_ his mom _hated_ the cold) or trapped in one of those awful stasis tubes, soulless, empty, sleeping in a pool of chemicals or—  
That was it. That was how he felt. Not falling— sinking. Sucked underneath an ocean, surrounded by water, sinking an inch at a time. Drowning. _God_. He couldn’t breathe.  
“You’re sure?” he asked.  
“I’m sure. I know a Grayson when I see one, remember?”  
Dick buried his face in his hands. Why now, he wondered, if she’d been alive this whole time? Maybe they just let her out. Maybe she saw the unmasking. Maybe she lost track of him before that? Maybe she didn’t even know who he was— how much personality did Talons, have, really? Cobb seemed to know (Dick remembered Cobb talking about training and torture and shoved the thought away, quickly, before he could reach the end), but the Talons always acted mindless, old, unearthly. Even Bruce didn’t seem to care if they died.  
And they were _assassins_. His mom was a murderer? For a few seconds, the image of his parents’ bodies shifted into his mother crouching above her own corpse, blood pooling around her knees, gray-faced and grinning. A Talon. No. No, that wasn’t _right_. Dick stood up from his chair.  
“I have to go,” he told Tim, making for the door. “I have to…” He wasn’t entirely sure what he had to do, but he needed to leave— now. He pushed through the back entrance and out onto the grounds, checking briefly for Bruce before he stepped into the darkness. Bruce didn’t know about this, did he? (Bruce didn’t know about anything anymore, but maybe he did before?) He wouldn’t keep something like that… right? Dick wasn’t sure.  
What was he supposed to— Dick strode through the grass, towards the fence— What was he supposed to do now? Find her? She might try to fight him if he did. She could— he reached for the keypad— She could do anything. There was no way to know and—  
And she was standing right in front of him, watching from the other side of the fence.  
For a few moments, they both stood absolutely still, staring at each other, and all Dick could think was that he was _taller_ than her— and Tim was right. That was his mother. Obviously different—gray skin and swollen veins with knives strapped to her chest— but clearly the same woman.  
Dick lunged for the keypad, desperate to get through the fence, knowing he wouldn’t be able to make it in time— he saw her running out of the corner of his eye as he punched in numbers, fumbling the keys. His hands were shaking. He could hear his own heartbeat.  
By the time the gate swung open, she was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> No, I don't intend on writing more. The cliffhanger was intentional. Sorry if you were mislead.


End file.
